Hutchinson, Kansas: a town so small that most are unaware of its existence. 

To me, “Hutch” was home.

Living in a small area, education wasn’t completely lost, but the opportunity to grow and challenge myself academically was never really offered. I wasn’t subjected to higher level classes, and I was never tested to be “gifted and talented.” The emphasis on school wasn’t demanding, and thus, not much was demanded of me. 

Outside of school, the town itself wasn’t very opportunistic. Businesses shut down and restaurants were often left abandoned. Due to the lack of opportunity and the educational discrepancy, students in the system turned to addictive habits. My mom often refers to Hutch as a black hole; before most are aware, the town sucks them in.

This was my hometown. However, the love for my class, school and town slowly disintegrated the older I got. There’s two events that catalyzed my want — my need — to get away. 

In fourth grade, a new student joined my class. He had aggressive and severe tantrums, many that ended up in him being reported to the counselor. One day, he came back to class after being pulled aside. This wasn’t unusual, but his behavior after was. We were having reading time when he came to my teacher’s desk, and threw her MacBook. 

The sound was loud and sudden. 

My class attempted to funnel into the counselor’s room. But before processing the situation, with the weight of his entire body, he tackled the girl directly behind me. Her petite frame fell into the backpacks cluttered to the wall. I don’t remember the day it happened, his name or what he wore, but I remember his face: full of anger and rage unimaginable to a 9-year-old. Adults rushed toward him as we ran into another room and sat in silence. 

I cried silent tears, hoping the boy wouldn’t run to the kindergartener’s hallway – where my 5-year-old brother was sitting – and cause any more violence.  

The entire situation showed me the darker realities of growing up in a system not catered toward certain individuals. His behavior could have been helped, and although the school did all they could, the lack of opportunity to receive proper counseling caused him to stay in this damaging pattern. 

The next year, things had gotten better. The kid no longer attended our school and I kept a close connection with each of my peers. But, the days turned darker when my closest friend and I got into an argument. This petty disagreement turned the entire grade against me, and before I realized the extent of the situation, I lost most of my friends. I was bullied for months and I lost the love I had for school.

When I thought things couldn’t get better, my mom found a new job: 412.7 miles away, in Dallas, Texas. It was the type of place I only heard about on the television. Everyone knows Texas, and everyone knows Dallas — the complete opposite of my home town. 

I was torn on how to feel about moving so far away, as I would be leaving the things I held dearest to my heart: my family, the few friends I had and the small town I learned to love. 

At the end of the day, when the sun set and the streets went quiet and dim, Hutch was my home. But I recognized the possibility this chance gave me, and before we could be sucked into the black hole that was our circumstances, my family and I packed our things and headed to Texas. 

At first, this move seemed wasteful. I figured that, as soon as I came here, I would be welcomed with open arms. But having moved in the middle of fifth grade, I entered at an awkward time. I knew no one, and was only referred to as “the new girl.” I was able to make friends in Dallas, but I still longed for the support I had back in Hutch from my family. When I felt lost or upset, my grandma’s house had been a seven minute drive; now, it was six hours. 

School was also a lot harder. The education system is held at a high standard in our district, and having come from a school with little emphasis on academics, I began to struggle. Getting on the same curve as other students was difficult. I jumped into a pond without realizing the waterfall coming toward me. 

Despite the struggles I faced, Dallas presented me with something I never had back in Hutch: diversity in learning opportunities, people and beliefs. 

In sixth grade, I decided to enroll in band. I had never played an instrument, and only had a few lousy attempts at learning piano. However, this decision ended up having an unforgettable effect. I got the opportunity to perform at the Midwest Convention in Chicago in 2019, and my love for music has only grown. 

I still love where I came from, and take every opportunity I can to visit. Even if for only a few days, I cherish the time I get to be with my family back in Hutch. However, I don’t regret moving. I have been blessed with strong education, schools and extracurriculars. From the day I moved here, I promised myself to never take this opportunity for granted.

Now as a senior, these opportunities to change and grow have inspired me to pursue higher levels of education and challenge myself more. I plan on studying neuroscience and going on the pre-medical track; one day, I will become a trauma surgeon. 

Every day, I’m reminded of my circumstances. I’m reminded of how I’ve rewritten my story and made it my own. I’m no longer the shy, mousy-haired little girl in Hutchinson, Kansas; I’ve managed to become much more.